


Hit It and Love It

by Kitsfics



Series: SanSan One Shots [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A Love It or List It AU, A little talky then straight to the smut, AU of my own fic, And his tongue and his dick, Don't care, F/M, Loathe It or Level It spin-off, Not Beta Read, One Shot, Sandor is very good with his hands, Shameless Smut, Size Kink, big dick, is that weird?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:00:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27764119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitsfics/pseuds/Kitsfics
Summary: Designer Sansa is renovating carpenter Sandor's house, but they can't deny their growing attraction.
Relationships: Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark
Series: SanSan One Shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2168991
Comments: 19
Kudos: 100





	Hit It and Love It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thecatthewall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thecatthewall/gifts).



> So there I was, minding my own business, writing a Jaimsa fic called Loathe It or Level It, about Sansa, the decorator, and Jaime, the realtor, who have a love/hate relationship and run a reality TV show where Sansa renovates houses, Jaime tries to sell a new house, and they compete to see which option the homeowner loves best. But then I wrote an episode where Sandor and his mother are the homeowners, and then the SanSan in me just couldn't let it go... So I present an alternate universe for my own fic, where Sandor and Sansan engage in a little shameless fucking after being attracted to one another on the set of the show.
> 
> So, enjoy the shameless fucking. Thanks to @thecatthewall for the Sandor inspo and @theredwulf for the NSFW pic.

Hit It and Love It

  
  


Sansa turned to leave, and saw Sandor standing in the kitchen.

“Sandor, what are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be in the house, it’ll ruin the surprise.”

“I was just checking on my cabinets. They’re not going, are they?”

“Course not! I would never destroy a work of art.”

To Sansa’s surprise and delight, Sandor flushed. “You’re listening to my mother too much.”

“What do you mean?”

“Her attempts to fix us up, of course. I’m not deaf.”

“My appreciation of your carpentry has nothing to do with your mother, and predates my meeting either of you. They’re just beautiful cabinets,” she shrugged.

Sandor stood silently for a few minutes, then turned to leave. “Well, I’ll get out of the way.”

“You’re not in the way,” Sansa remarked as Sandor brushed past her. He turned toward her, and Sansa noticed again how beautiful his eyes were, how unusual the steel grey color was.

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to be back here, though.”

She shrugged. “The producers are all gone. Technically, no one knows you’re here. You could stay and give me some...advice on cabinets.”

Sandor considered Sansa for a moment, as though he were trying to decide if she were serious. “You’re flirting with me.”

Sansa laughed. “Ouch. Am I that bad at it?”

“It’s hard for me to tell, with my mother. She’s always telling me so-and-so is flirting with me, when they were really just being nice to me. I never was around girls enough to know when they really were flirting.”

“Why not?”

Sandor tilted his head, showed her the left side of his face. She was confused, but then she saw it, a slight discoloration of the skin, running in a jagged line from his jaw, right past the corner of his mouth, up to the brow. The skin to the left of this line was slightly paler than the right, and looked slightly bumpy. She hadn’t noticed the other day, but it seemed more pronounced now.

“They put makeup on me that first day,” he answered her thoughts. “I didn’t let them today. I burned it when I was thirteen. Took years of skin grafts to get it back to semi-normal.”

“I can hardly tell the difference,” she said. “After you pointed it out, I can see it, but,” she shrugged.

“Well of course you’d say that, you’re only after me for my lucrative carpentry business and this very old house.”

Sansa was put-out for a moment, it was such a strange thing for him to say. Then he smiled and Sansa laughed. “By the Seven, you’re joking.”

“Yes. Am I that bad at it?”

Sansa laughed. “No, I just-” And suddenly, Sandor stooped and his mouth was just inches from hers. Sansa gasped slightly, then closed the few inches to meet his lips with hers.

It was a simple kiss, brief, but electric and smoldering, and left Sansa’s stomach feeling as full of knots as the day she’d ridden a rollercoaster as a child. Sandor receded slightly, opened his mouth to utter a groan, eyes squeezed shut.

“Uhh, I’m sorry, I probably mis-”

Sansa wrapped her arms around his neck, tugging him back down to her, kissing him ferociously. Sandor’s eyes widened in amazement, Sansa swam for a moment in their grey-blue depths, then shut her eyes tight, as Sandor’s arms slipped around her waist, pulling him tight against her. She thrilled at the nearness of him, the comforting solidness of his arms around her, his chest against hers. Even the way she had to tilt her head all the way back and stretch up to her full height to kiss him, it was so exciting and new.

The front door slammed, and Tormund called her name.

“Shit,” she broke the kiss and stood stock-still, Sandor still holding onto her until they heard Tormund’s footsteps going up the stairs. Sansa sighed out the breath she’d been holding.

“I’m sorry. I like you, it’s just, if someone found out-”

“I completely understand.”

She stretched up on tiptoe to kiss him one last time, then again, and again…

“I just can’t, I could get in trouble,” she murmured, shifting her head to the left as Sandor kissed her neck, the scratch of his stubble sending shivers down her back. She heard footsteps heading back down the stairs.

“Fuck. You should go.”

Sansa slipped Sandor her card before he left. “In case you have any questions about the renovations,” she explained with a slow smile.

Sandor smiled and brushed his fingertips against her cheek, then left, nodding to Tormund as they passed on another.

“What was he doing here?” Tormund asked.

“He was telling me we have to switch out the downstairs tub, I’m calling Ygritte to let her know.”

Sansa spoke with her contractor and design assistant, making plans, but all she could think about was Sandor’s hands on her waist, his lips on her neck.

On the drive home, Sansa had to struggle to focus on the road and her surroundings, almost making the wrong turn a few times. She found herself combing through her fingers as she waited at a stoplight, looking at herself in the rearview mirror and blushing. She swore, if that man didn’t call her soon and put her out of her misery.

At home, she ate a quick dinner, logged onto her laptop and checked her email. She unloaded the dishwasher and paid a few bills. She vacuumed the living room and scheduled a hair appointment for the next week. When she finally stopped and looked at the clock, she realized a paltry seventy minutes had gone by, and she was now more tense and wound-up than ever.

_ A nice bath _ , she thought, and ran a tub of pleasantly hot water, full of fluffy bubbles, and got in with a glass of white wine and some soft music playing. Though the water did wonders for her tense muscles, it did nothing for her mind, and thoughts of the handsome carpenter still raced through her mind. She sighed and sunk farther into the tub.

After twenty minutes or so, just as Sansa was deliberating whether to put more hot water in or drain the tub and get out, her phone began to buzz with an incoming call. She quickly dried her hand, answered the call and put her phone on speaker.

“Hello?”

“Hi. It’s-”

“Sandor,” she finished with a smile, lying back into the tub again, stretching out her arms above her.

“Yes. I just wanted to call- It sounds a little echoey.”

“I’m in the bath, you’re on the speaker.”

“Oh, I thought I heard water. I just called to see if you were busy tonight.”

“No, no plans.”

“I want to ask you- well, talk to you about something first. I just don’t want there to be any misconceptions. I’m just not looking for-”

“It’s ok, Sandor. I’m not looking for a relationship either. Are you staying at the Trident?”

There was a pause on his end of the line. “Yes, with ma and Elena. They’re away visiting family tonight.”

“Why don’t we meet in the bar, and we can see where things go. In an hour?”

“Ok, I’d like that.”

“See you soon.”

An hour later, Sansa was walking into the Trident, the hotel that the production company put the homeowners up in while their houses 

went through renovation. Sansa knew that Tyrion’s uncle was the owner, so the production company got a good discount.

Sansa walked across the lobby to the little bar, her heels clicking on the shiny marble floor. It was an old hotel, and one of Sansa’s favorites in King’s Landing. The vaulted ceiling of the lobby, complete with a giant, antique glass chandelier, gave way to the bar, dimly lit and thickly carpeted. Low couches and overstuffed chairs were positioned around gas fireplaces, paper screens discretely separating different sections of the bar. It was intimate, and Sansa always admired the classic design.

She saw Sandor at the bar, a drink on the counter in front of him. He reached up one hand and combed his chin-length wavy hair back from his forehead, scratched the thick stubble on his chin before spotting her. He raised the hand in a half-wave, eyes roaming once over her figure. Sansa smirked at his response, eyes widening slightly, mouth opening in a small o.

She had chosen her wardrobe strategically, selecting a short, tight dress that she didn’t get to wear often, far too racy for TV or work. It was so short, she’d have to be careful how she walked and sat, her favorite dark blue that matched her eyes and complimented her red hair. The sweetheart neckline was covered in a layer of lace that ran from her collarbones down to the wrist. Paired with her favorite champagne-colored stiletto heels, Sansa knew she looked good, and basked in the confidence of having a handsome man eye her as she walked across the bar to meet him.

He stood up and leaned over to kiss her cheek, his hand on her elbow. He smelled amazing, some kind of cologne that reminded Sansa of soft worn leather, the sharp tang of musk, not strong, but understated and warm. She sat down as the bartender came over.

“What can I get you?”

“Martini please, Lion, dry, dirty, with extra olives.”

The bartender turned to Sandor. “Another rum and coke?”

“Yes please.”

Sandor turned to Sansa. “That’s a complicated drink order. What does it mean?”

Sansa laughed lightly. “I mean, I know what a martini is,” Sandor amended.

“Well, Lion is the type of gin, dry means light on the vermouth, dirty means add olive juice. It’s delicious.”

The bartender brought the drinks, and Sansa used the cocktail pick loaded with five olives to stir the drink before taking a dainty sip, then munching on an olive. Sandor smiled and sipped his own drink.

Sansa broke the silence. “What’s your favorite pickup line?”

Sandor blinked. “What?”

“To break the ice. What’s your go to?”

“Sansa, this might surprise you, but I don’t pick up women very often.”

“Well, you can practice on me. Give me your best shot.”

He shook his head and scoffed. “I forgot my library card, can I still check you out?”

“That’s good! I like it! I have 206 bones in my body, want to give me another one?”

Sandor snorted. “Wow. Nice legs, when do they open?”

“Is your name winter? Because I think you’ll be coming soon.”

Sandor snorted as he took a sip of his drink, and started coughing for a moment. He watched Sansa out of the corner of his eye as he grabbed a cocktail napkin to wipe his mouth. “I can’t believe you’re actually here, let alone sitting here telling dirty jokes with me. I thought you’d slap me in the kitchen today, not agree to have a drink with me.”

Sansa took another sip of her drink, biting off another olive. “Why would I slap you?”

Sandor shrugged. “It’s not exactly appropriate to hit on someone when they’re just doing their job.”

“It’s entirely appropriate if she wants you to.”

“I’m glad she wanted me to.” Sandor watched Sansa as she finished her drink. “Do you want to go to dinner?”

Sansa bit into the last olive. “Already ate.”

“Me too.” His mouth slid into a slow, lazy smile. “But I could eat again.”

“I hope so.”

Sandor called the bartender for the tab. “So you really want to just go upstairs with me?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

Sandor shrugged, laid some bills on the bar with the ticket. “I’m not complaining.”

Sansa stood and headed back towards the lobby, now feeling the very pleasant sensation of walking, knowing she looked good, and knowing that a very sexy man was looking at her ass. They walked to the lift, and waited while Sansa pushed the button.

When the doors of the lift shut on them, and Sandor pressed the button for his floor, she felt Sandor’s hand on her back, his knuckles slipping down the curve of her spine, until his hand was resting on her ass.

“Will you let me wear you like a pair of sunglasses? One leg over each ear.”

Sansa chuckled. “You ever been to a wine tasting? They tell you to spit, but I prefer to swallow.”

Sandor shook his head as the doors opened. “No fair, you had time to prepare.”

Sandor led her down the hall to his room, and unlocked the door. The second the door clicked shut behind her, Sandor pushed her back against it, not kissing her yet, just pinning her between the door and his body. His hands began to roam up and down her body, watching her closely as he pushed up her skirt, running his hands up the back of her thighs. Sansa let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, feeling like every fiber of her body was tense and needed release.

“You know what I think?” Sandor asked, his breath brushing against her ear, making her squirm. “I think you haven’t been fucked in a while. Am I right?”

She shook her head, not trusting to her voice for the moment.

Sandor chuckled darkly. “I’ll take that back. I think the problem is that you haven’t been well fucked in a long time. Is that more accurate?”

Sandor’s hand settled lightly over her pubic bone, his fingers over her entrance, palm pressing into her clit. She bucked her hips to try and create friction, but Sandor’s hold kept her from moving much.

“Is it?” he pressed. “I won’t give you what you want until you say it.”

“Yes,” she murmured.”I need to be fucked.”

She was rewarded by his palm pressing into her clit, and Sansa sighed as she pushed her hips into him.

“I think I might be able to help you with that.” He curled his fingers into her, pressing into her entrance through her underwear and sighed.

“Fuck, your cunt is soaked.”

Sansa moaned softly, hands curling into the front of Sandor’s shirt. “Then get in there.”

Sandor slid his hand behind Sansa’s thighs, hoisted her up so her legs wrapped around his waist. When he had one hand on her ass, one on her back, he finally kissed her. Sansa puddled, arms wrapped around Sandor’s neck. It felt so good to be in his arms, not to be alone with her vibrator for one night.

Sandor carried her to the bed, laid her down on the edge. She started to sit up to pull up her dress, but Sandor gently pushed her back down.

“No, let me.” He slid his hands down her legs, pulled her shoes off and flipped them to the side. He pushed her skirt even farther up her hips, then reached around her back to unzip the dress while he kissed her again, deep kisses that she felt in her knees. She liked the way he kissed, open-mouthed, just the lightest brush of his tongue against hers, teasing her. He turned his attention to her neck, at first brushing soft kisses against the delicate skin, then nibbing lightly. He bit into her ear, drawing a soft gasp.

“Is my stubble too rough?” He murmured against her neck.

“Yes, I love it.”

Sandor pulled her dress up, pushing it up over her waist, her ribs, up past her shoulders and off, tossing it aside. He lowered his head to her breasts, pulling one of her nipples into his mouth. Sansa moaned as he dragged his tongue across the sensitive bud, then alternated between sucking and flicking the tip of his tongue across the nub.

Sansa reached around Sandor and began pulling his shirt out of his black slacks, her hands finding his skin, dragging her hands up his back, reveling in the muscles and hair. Sandor took her hint, and leaned back to unbutton his shirt, while Sansa watched, pleased and surprised by the hairy, muscled chest he revealed. He saw her looking and smiled.

“You like what you see?”

“Yes. You’re very cocky, aren’t you?”

His smile was crooked as he shucked off his shirt and kicked off his shoes. “Only when I have a beautiful girl in my bed.”

He knelt at the end of the bed, placed one hand on either side of her hips, and tugged her down to the bottom of the bed, drawing a small cry of surprise from her. He kissed her belly, hooking his fingers under the waistband of her underwear. Sansa shivered at the tickle of Sandor’s stubble, as he pulled the undergarment down her hips, past her knees, and off. He pushed a hand between her legs, gazing raptly at the patch of auburn hair at the apex of her thighs. He placed his hand over her pubic bone, drew it down over her mound, drawing a finger lazily through the pool of moisture gathering between her lips. He pushed his middle finger inside her, smiling lightly as Sansa moaned and bucked her hips. 

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he murmured, withdrawing his finger and putting it into his mouth, sucking off all the juice as Sansa watched. “Let’s loosen you up a bit.”

He knelt before her, guiding her legs to rest on each of his shoulders, then bent his head to her cunt. He sniffed deeply, then spread her lips to reveal her folds. “Full bush, I respect it,” he murmured.

“I trim!” she protested, then gasped when Sandor’s tongue dragged across her clit.

He lapped at her first, with the full breadth of his tongue, slowly at first, then his pace increasing. He alternated sucking her clit into his mouth, and lapping at her, from bottom to top. Sansa let her hands wander down to tangle in his hair, hips bucking against him, moaning his name.

Sandor growled against her skin, creating a delicious vibration that made her shiver and squirm. Sandor wrapped his huge hands around her hips, keeping her steady, until one hand released her, moving to her entrance to slip two fingers inside her. He curled his fingers towards the front of her walls as he flicked his tongue over her clit, over and over. Sansa’s back arched as she came, hips thrusting forward, thighs clenching around Sandor’s head. She relaxed as the ecstasy receded, her moans subsiding as she loosened her grip on Sandor’s hair.

Sandor pushed up from his crouch, grinning at her. “I guess if I ever go bald, I’ll have the small consolation that it was in the service of fair maidens.”

Sansa stretched, watching Sandor wipe his mouth on the back of his hand. “You seem to be doing all right in that department.”

Her eyes flicked to his waist as he stood. “You seem to be overdressed, though.”

Sandor reached down to his belt and began to undo the buckle. He undid the zipper and pushed down his pants, stepping out of them, leaving him standing in his boxer briefs. Sansa couldn’t help but stare at his body, well-muscled and hairy, taller and broader than she’d known a man could be. She felt like a helpless maiden before him, though she was not sure where that thought came from. Some primal part of her brain.

Sandor hesitated with his hands at the top of his briefs. Sansa sat up, pulling down his underwear herself, eyes widening when his cock popped free of the confining fabric. It was enormous, larger than she’d expected, almost wider than her hand could encompass, longer than two handwidths. She looked up at him, then back down to his sizable cock.

“Sorry, should i have warned you?”

She wrapped one hand around it, pumped her hand once down its length. “It’s ok, I love a challenge,” she said, as she leaned forward and closed her mouth around the tip.

Sandor exhaled as she opened her mouth, sliding the tip of his cock between her lips. She let her tongue slip up and down his length, swirling around the head a few times before taking as much of his cock into her mouth as she could, until the tip was pressing against the back of her throat. She used one hand to measure the rest, almost a full width of her hand was left over.

Sandor groaned as she pulled her head back, applying light suction to the head as her hands worked up and down the shaft. She moved her mouth down once more, jaw open as wide as it could go to accommodate his width, her lips wrapped tightly around his cock, as she pushed as far down as she could, until the tip of him was pushing into her throat. 

“Fuck, Sansa,” Sandor groaned. She gagged lightly and came back up, gasping for air.

Sandor’s hands combed through her hair, gently pulling her back. “You’re amazing.”

He leaned down to kiss her, one hand going to support the back of her neck. He pushed her back against the bed, leaning over her and pressing her into the mattress. Sansa slipped her arms around his neck, her legs wrapping around his waist. Sandor slid one hand behind her back, lifting and shifting Sansa back on the bed, until her head was settled on a pillow, Sandor crouching over her. He pulled her legs down from around his waist, lay beside her rather than between them, and gazed down at her body.

“Gods, you looked so pretty, sucking on my cock,” he murmured, kissing down her neck. One hand felt between her legs, stroking her entrance.

“I haven’t done that in a while,” she admitted. “I haven’t done any of this in a while.”

She gasped as Sandor slid three fingers inside of her. “And are you enjoying yourself?” he asked, curling his fingers against her front wall.

“Yes,” she moaned. “Oh yes.”

“Is there something else you want?” he asked, rubbing his thumb lightly over her clit. It wasn’t enough pressure to relieve the throbbing ache, but it was enough to whet her appetite.

“Your cock, please.”

Sandor chuckled against her neck. “So polite. Would you like to come again first?”

Sansa nodded, then moaned again when Sandor’s thumb moved, circling her clit. His fingers pistoned in and out of her cunt, fingers curling, rubbing against her inner walls, filling her up, driving her to the brink.

Sansa panted against Sandor’s neck, her arms clinging tightly to his shoulder. Her hips were bucking wildly into his hand, creating that last little bit of tension she needed. She came with a soft cry, feeling her cunt tighten around Sandor’s fingers, pulsing and clenching around him as her orgasm pulsed through her. She loosened her grip on his shoulders and Sandor chuckled.

“That’s quite a grip you have,” he teased, pulling his fingers out of her with a slick pop.

“Sorry,” she said breathily, though she didn’t feel a bit sorry as she stretched luxuriously under Sandor’s gaze. She had never felt more sexy and desirable than lying in Sandor’s arms.

“ _ Sorry _ ,” Sandor parroted back to her, teasing her gently before kissing her deeply. “So polite.”

He pulled Sansa with him as he rolled to his back, settling her over his lap, straddling his hips. He pulled her down to him, holding her hair back with both hands as he kissed her, letting his tongue flick insider her mouth to tangle with hers. Sansa pushed back and up to a sitting position, Sandor’s cock standing at attention between them.

“Well, now or never,” she murmured, moving herself into position over his cock. Sandor wrapped a hand around the shaft, holding himself steady as she eased the head slowly into her cunt.

“Oh,” she said breathily as she lowered herself still farther, impaling herself on his massive cock. She was glad she’d had two orgasms at this point, she was just relaxed enough to take him in. She could feel her lower lips and walls expanding to fit him in, until she was completely, impossibly filled. When she reached that point, she was surprised to find there were still a few more inches to go.

Finally she found her hips flush against his, and looked up to Sandor’s face to find him watching her, eyes dark and hooded. She laughed softly, slightly embarrassed. Sansa was suddenly reminded that they were strangers, and the intimacy of his gaze was intense and made her feel self-conscious. She lowered her eyes to his chest, and began to move, pushing up then lowering back down. She shut her eyes to revel in the pleasure, the control she felt.

Sandor’s hands began to roam over her body, moving up her thighs, her hips, her stomach to her breasts, teasing a nipple gently. Sansa let her hands wander, up his stomach, to his well-defined chest, fingers combing through the short, thick hair there, that was surprisingly soft. She kept up her rhythm as she felt the familiar pressure build again. She let her head fall back, a moan slipping past her lips. The moan deepened as Sandor’s thumb found her clit again, and began pushing his hips up into hers, creating a new friction inside her as the angle of his cock changed.

Suddenly, she felt herself moving in a new way, farther up, and then to the side. Her eyes opened in surprise to find Sandor was flipping her over, lifting her up as though she weighed no more than a doll, and turning her over, cock still buried inside her twitching cunt. He crouched above her, weight supported on his elbows, and kissed her deeply. Sansa moaned and writhed beneath him, protesting at the sudden lack of movement.

“You’re so pretty riding my cock. But I don’t know if I want to let you come again just yet.” His tone was light and teasing, but Sansa heard the steely undertone and shivered.

Sandor leaned his face against her neck as he began to thrust in and out again, and Sansa wrapped her arms around his back, fingers digging into his skin, one hand between his shoulder blades, one in the small of his back. She wrapped her legs around his thighs, feet tucked behind his knees, and gasped as Sandor increased his pace. She felt like she was riding a bucking bronco and held on for dear life.

“Oh,” Sansa sighed as Sandor changed his position slightly, increasing the drag of his hips against her clit. With the increased drag inside and out, Sansa felt her climax nearing.

“I’m going to-” her words cut off in a hoarse cry, as she felt her cunt clench around his cock, clinging to Sandor as the orgasm washed over her in waves. It felt like every muscle in her body clenched for a few moments, then relaxed, the orgasm continuing to throb as Sandor kept thrusting in and out of her. Then he withdrew sharply and completely.

Sansa let out a protesting moan, but complied as his hands guided her, flipping her over onto her stomach, then up onto her knees. Sandor pulled the pillows underneath her, and moved her hands to the headboard, her fingers curling around the top to hold herself up. She yipped as she felt a sharp pain in her left butt cheek. She turned and glanced back to find Sandor grinning at her, kissing the sore spot softly.

“Sorry, it was so round and juicy, I couldn’t help myself.”

She smiled. “I don’t think you’re sorry at all.”

Sandor straightened, his hands caressing her bottom, his right hand slapping the right cheek lightly. “You might be right.”

Sandor positioned himself behind her, and then he was inside her again, sheathing himself to the hilt so quickly Sansa cried out.

He bent down, supporting himself against the headboard as his lips found her neck, nipping and nibbling there as he slowly began to move in and out of her.

“Is that ok? I’m not hurting you, am I?” he asked.

Sansa shook her head. “Don’t stop.”

Sandor grunted against her skin and pushed himself back up. His thrusts became more and more persistent and his groans lower and more feral. Sansa felt herself collapsing from the force of his hips against hers, and she felt she was being ground into dust as she let her upper body fall against the pillows. Sandor’s insistent hands on her hips kept her lower body in place. From her new position, chest low and hips high, his cock hit a new spot inside her, a place she didn’t think a man had ever gone before. She suddenly became aware of the sounds they were making, Sandor’s groans and her own keening, almost mewling cries.

Just as she thought her body couldn’t handle any more exquisite pain and pleasure, Sandor leaned forward and she felt his index finger slip against her clit. Just a few strokes was all it took, and Sansa was crying out, eyes squeezed shut as her walls contracted once more, tightening her hold on Sandor’s cock. At the same time he gave one final thrust inside her, groaning louder than ever. He collapsed forward on top of her, rolling off to the side, pulling her with him, so that she was lying with her back to his chest.

She felt his cock slip out of her finally and let out a small sigh. Sandor pulled her into him, burying his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply. His stubble scratched against her ear, tickling her. She giggled and shifted.

“What are you doing? What do I smell like?”

“Me,” he growled, sending Sansa shivering again. “I like it.”

Sansa lay in his arms a long while, muscles soft and tender. After a while, she pulled, but Sandor’s arms held her fast.

“Where are you going?” he asked softly.

“I should go.”

“No, please stay. If you want.”

“You want me to stay?” she asked, turning over in his arms, one leg slipping over his hips. His grey eyes almost drove the breath right out of her again, she didn’t think she’d ever get used to the intensity in them, when he focused his gaze solely on her, she felt like a deer caught in headlights, unsure whether to stay or bolt.

He nodded. “Very much.”

She felt conflicted. Afterall, she’d heard what he’d said. Maybe it would be better if she left, before anyone got attached, got their feelings hurt.

“Well, I need to get up, use the restroom.”

Sandor loosened his arms, and Sansa sat up, suddenly cold. She stood, realizing how sore she was.

“Are you all right?” Sandor asked, reaching out to steady her.

“Yes, I think so. Someone might have been a bit over enthusiastic, though.”

Sandor grinned bashfully. “I am sorry you’re sore.”

She tried to glare at him, but found her resolve failing. She walked unsteadily to the bathroom, shut the door behind her, flicking on the light and blinking momentarily in the bright light. She gasped a little when she saw her reflection, turning her neck this way and that to look at the scratch marks on her neck, from his stubble and nibbling. Her nipples were swollen, and there were two red marks on her hips from where he had held her towards the end.

Her hair was mussed and tangled. She combed through it with her fingers, then went to do her business, cleaning the sticky mess from between her legs until she felt clean again. After washing her hands, she came back to the main room, picking her dress up from where it lay at the foot of the bed. Sandor sat up when she pulled it on over her head.

“You’re leaving?”

She reached behind her and began the slow and tedious process of zipping up the dress by herself. “I think it’s best. If I get back into bed with you, I might never want to get out.”

“Would that be the worse thing?” he asked, getting up to come help her with the zipper.

“I just think it would avoid getting feelings involved. That’s better for everyone, right?”

She began searching in the covers for her underwear. Sandor picked them up from his side of the bed, offered them to her. His face was solemn, his eyes dark. Sansa sat down to slip the underwear over her feet and up her legs, keeping her eyes on the floor as she pulled her underwear into place, and her skirt down.

Sandor shrugged as she slipped on her shoes. “If that’s what you want.”

She picked up her purse from where she had dropped it by the door. “Well, it’s what we both want, right? That’s what you said on the phone.”

She wished he would stop looking at her with those big eyes, it was starting to make her feel a little bad. But after all, they were adults, and this was what they’d agreed to, right? No need to feel bad for just wanting a little no-strings sex. Even if that sex had been the best sex of her life. With four orgasms.

“Right,” Sandor said, though something in his tone suggested he didn’t completely agree.

Sansa walked over, blushing at the fact that Sandor was still extremely, distractingly naked. She reached up and kissed his cheek.

“I had a nice time. Well, it was a little better than just nice. Maybe we could do it again sometime.”

“You know, you never let me finish when we were on the phone.”

Sansa froze, confused. “What do you mean? You are looking for a relationship?”

“No, I’m not looking. But what I was going to say on the phone was that I’m not just looking for a one-night stand. I like you, Sansa.”

Sansa blushed. “I like you too. I’m sorry, I just assumed you were going to say... But then, what does that mean? What are we?”

Sandor shrugged. “I don’t know. If you still want to go, you should. I just didn’t want you to think that I want you to go, or that my feelings aren’t already involved. Because I care about you a lot.”

“But what about your family, are they going to like you having a...whatever, a fuck-buddy?”

“My family is a really big part of my life, that’s true, but I have my own life. Besides, you know they love you. Ma would probably be over-the-moon if she knew about this.”

“Really? I thought she’d be really old-fashioned and scandalized.”

“I mean, she might start making you her special tea, it’s supposed to increase fertility. But no, she’s always trying to get me a girlfriend. She just wants me to be happy. And give her grandchildren.”

“I can’t promise there will be any grandchildren.”

“She’ll learn to live with disappointment.”

Sansa kicked off her shoes, then turned her back to Sandor, sweeping her hair to one side. “Would you mind unzipping me again?”

Sandor complied, kissing a path down her spine, then pulling the dress up over her head. Sansa turned around again, her arms wrapping around his neck.

“Just remember, we’re not fucking again. I need two to three days to recover.”

Sandor chuckled darkly. “That’s ok, there’s other ways to have fun.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it!!!


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